Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1887-10-22


AN assistant. Martin that makes
quite a change in your life. ehs''
"A change Ec-. hut OH, 50 little n
one. There were TOO many customers
so much the bctt.r, Martin! so much
the better. Too nuCi, work makes one
rich"
4 change He docs not understand
No, his habits have not changed; there /,
the square, the church and the fountain
the same identical things, the same noises
the same words Funerals still Solcmnll
file by on their way 10 the graveyard
christening parties still 60 to the church
Men walk and shoes wear oht Tao! tac
pan, pan, but there will soon I've an end e
all this. The house will be erected. Ii i
being built The frame J. up. Tn,
whole country talks of Martins house. II
will shut out the notary from view OF
the plain and he, naturally. is anything
but pleased. \ few days more Of drudcery
worthy man. and thou shalt have earned
thy day Of rest. Work, work The
fountain sings swec,ly, Tomorrow thou
wilt not hear it. Thy hammer seems tC
resourd joyfully, The new house has two
stories. Upon the roof, right against the
chimney, the bricklaycrs have set u flag
adorned with bouquet Of oleandcr bios
SONS. Thy dream is realized. Thy house
is up. Thy flag floats as proudly in the
breeze rs does the one over the town hall
on holidays. Come. now. Martin! treat
the workmen. Choose for that purpose
some fine Sunday and Chris;en thy new
house! Thy needst no longer ply thy awl
and thou mayst lay down thy hammer.
heed no longer ply my awl. may lay
down my hammer So frequently has
old Martin been toasted that he is tight.
in fact, very drunk. He had never tas ted
that white wine before, and he finds il
very pleasant To drink, much better than
the water Of the fountain. Ii is Martin s
first Sunday. the first on which he does
not hear issuing from the church the reg
ular murmur of hymns as monotonous
as the eternity Of which they sing, II is.
then. II real Sunday, n day OF rest. All
Martins habits Will now change. PLAY
fully he pats his apprentices shoulder
Eh, eh. ch, Both are fudtlled. and they
look at each other very strangely. saving
such funny things that n crowd gathers
around. laughing at them and exciting
them on. Martin wife comes up Hello.
why did the merry making wind up in n
1ght'
The jollity ended in a row. How di6
he get drunk Why did he make his ap-
prentice tipSy' No one would have dared
TO joke with poor Martin about his wife
II his age. He would not have been 50
furious. And that evening IN his resi-
dence the old house, not his own the new
one>. alone with his wife and apprentice.
hc would not have got So mad as to wound
the young man in the arm with his shoe
maker $ knife. Blu, it was his first sun
day. He was changing his mode of life
and his habits forever; he wished to have
IA merry making. the only one in his life.
and he wished il such that people would
say: oh. on that day Martin did things
in style Then he returned home drunk
and fell 10 beating his wife and apprcn-
tice: they defended themselves. and there
were blows, screams and blood. And tc
fill the measure of the old mans woes. in
his crazy fit of drunken fury he took IN
" lamp and set fire & the hangiRgs Of his
DeC, TO the curtains of the windows
shouting at the top "f his voice: Let
'verythiDg burn" lic has had enough
Of life of drudgery, when the only holi
day he has ever allowed himself iermin-
ates in trou q"
In front OF the burning house, while the
wound OF the apprentice is being dressed.
while Others are consolIng his wife. Martin
weeps and sobs like a child.
The new house is no longer his. Halt
the none! boarded away in the tlsnSlins
boots has gone to pay for the damage done
by the fire. Yet the little ionih has no;
suffered
In the public square the trees are, in
turn, green, yellow or bare. The fountain
with its four sponts. still plays merrily, n
saddening mirth because il seems so heart.
less, needing funeral as little ~ it does
christening. Funerals. weddings, chris
Jennings are seen every day passing through
the public square OF my village At night
the chorus of frogs makes a great din, not
unpleasant to those who are accustomed
to it. and who would probably awake with
start were il TO cease while they slept
In summer the shrill locusts still sound
their jerky notes in the topmos. branches
OF the plane trees beneath which the shade
is riddled with numerous round spots
gliding hither and thither, as do our
hearts which are ever fluttering between
hope and feari Tac. tao pan, par, tim
flies. hammer strikes, men walk, shoes
wear out. How dye dol how dye do!
Pere Martini
Old Martin is :herc. alone Just rs h.
used to he before Ec took All apprentice
His wife no longer smiles. She look.
older and older every day. her skin is like
parchment, and her back is bent She
prepares the soup and mends the clothe.
while her husband plies his awl He nc
l.,
nor garden. SIN, ut times, he repeats &C
himself, as if il a dream: oh, if some
day, before dying, l could only own .
small house with a little garden" n
reality, he feels as if lie has had enough Of
life-of that life in which single day OF
jo!lity is followed by a world Of trouble
The old man lives on. just because he
can't help il.
In the center Of his green frame which
spring dots with blood red flowers. he re-
sembles masterpiece Of art in which the
painter has deftly depicted with lines and
colors n mans whole life
Far away, Two leagues from the village
the railway trains sound their shrll whis
ties. They run upon rails which extend
from one end Of the earth to the other,
encircling il. just rs 4 hoop surrounds n
barrel; but Martin il always there, upon
his low chair in his narrow booth
Over the seas sail ships. leaving in their
wakes long lines of foam which also seem
to encircle the globe. Martin is still there
in his narrow booth. plying his awl and
welding his hammer.
There are many ways about the world
many roads, its paths are countless. Mcp
tra, nd sh -
will never stir.
Pan. pan! drive in the starlike nails
which shine under the thick soles Of ou,
peasants. Friend. thou hast hammered
into the leather as many nails as there
are stars in he sky! Pan, pan, the ham
mer strikes, pan! pan! never stopping.
Conscript> leave the village, soldiers OF
sailors: So do the landed proprietors-all